escoffiette

[escoffiette]

Escoffiette is moving!

I'm pretty excited to announce that I'm merging my personal food tumblr with Randwiches! It means more gifs, more projects and sandwiches galore!

The escoffiette archive will remain here for you to peruse and I hope that it inspires you when you don't know what you want to eat. 

xoxo 

jdlv

[escoffiette]

Deep Fried Bangus

Bangus (buhn-oose) is a common milk fish in the Philippines. Versatile and cheap, almost everyone eats some variation of it for breakfast. One aunt marinates it overnight in vinegar, another just salts it simply; both of them fry it in a lot of oil. Here I am in Ilo-Ilo fearing oil splatter from this delicate fresh fish. I was going for a flaky but crispy texture, so I let it go a little longer one side and merely tickled the other.

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Chicken tinola

Tinola are the leaves of the chili pepper plant, peppery just like arugula but tough. Most Filipino people wilt them in stew. Here we've simmered bone-in chicken pieces, a split chili pepper, ginger and onion to make a broth. Young green papaya is peeled and cut into chunks. When they are boiled, they are starchy and soft like potatoes.

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Grilled fish

In Ilo-Ilo, my aunt squatted by a small bbq made of cement. It was so interesting to see such a small scale method of cooking outside. Just some local sea salt and they were done fairly quickly.

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Pochero

I made the mistake of falling asleep while my aunt made pochero or beef stew with potatoes. The broth is thin but flavorful and the beef fell apart when you prodded it with your fork. I slurped up a couple bowls with some rice for texture.

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Blanched pako with crispy pork and tomatoes

Pako is young, unfurled fern. Much like fiddlehead ferns that grow in Maine, pako is not poisonous so long as they remain furled. I thought the greens were good enough on their own but my aunt had to pile deep fried pieces of crispy pork on top with tomatoes.

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Pork Sisig

Ever wondered what people did with the trotters and the oink? Filipinos roast them to a crisp, chop them with a butcher's knife and mix the steaming parts with raw onion and ginger. Super fragrant with bits of squishy fat, crispy skin and onion.

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Turbo Roasted Farmer's Market Oysters

I'm not one to correct an older filipino woman but my auntie Minda made these wrong. She was going for the baked oysters with cream that we had at Tatoy's. After she scrubbed the oysters clean, she sprinkled them with shredded cheese and stuck them in the "turbo" automatic roaster. I never heard of it, but it looks like something from an infomercial. I neglectfully went to check my email and failed to supervise. You know what, I still enjoyed these oysters with their lattice of cheese on top.

[escoffiette]

Best of Makati

I spent a month in The Philippines, a place that I confirmed to be raw and magical. It was important to see where my family came from, to meet distant relatives and to breathe in my heritage. I knew that my family loved food, but I didn't know that it was so central to Pan-Filipino circuitry. Zipping between metropolitan sprawls to beach resorts to rural compounds, I got a kaleidoscope glimpse of where I come from. It was familiar, but an off feeling of returning to a place you've never been. I've resolved to go back, there is too much to discover still. Here, I will highlight my favorite dishes in each city.

Deep fried bangus from Mesa (Greenbelt) - I loved how crispy this fish was. Pretty scary way of plating it though.

Crispy pata from Mesa (Greenbelt) - More deep fried pork knuckle!

Mango salad from Mesa (Greenbelt) - Surprising bite of yuzu with unripe mango salad. Something I definitely want to make at home.

Tacklings from Mercato - Mini tuna tacos with garlicky aioli

Cheese stick from Cafe Mary Grace (Serendra) - A sweet bun with a large baton of edam cheese inside. So nice.

Chocolate ensymada with apple cinnamon iced tea from Cafe Mary Grace (Serendra) - Ok, this is where I hit the wall. So much sugar, but no one else was eating it so I shoved the whole thing in my mouth!

As the varnish of vacation started to wear away, I caught my relatives going back to their routines of work and school. I was left alone to reflect upon my weeks of exploration and to go through all the photos. Another set of aunts (surprise surprise, I have billions), invited me out to the Makati area of Manila for the weekend. It's a 30 minute subway ride from Quezon City. It's shinier. There are condos, new malls and bigger businesses out there. All we did was mall hop! It was rewarding because we capped off the trip with a visit to the Mercato, a late night street food faire. This was what I was looking for! The drunk food !

It's hard to draw conclusions about my experience--because it isn't over! Even though I'm back in New York, I've been constantly thinking about how I can use something I've learned from my trip. The next couple of posts are going to be about the specific dishes that I learned how to make.

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Homemade 5 Spice Soup Dumplings

There are multiple reasons why The God of Cookery is one of my favorite movies. A big one is the secret to juicy meatballs. I extrapolated that soup dumplings were made in a similar way. A pack of dumpling wrappers have been in my freezer for ages and I had just made 5 spice meat mix, so I decided to dive right in!

I enjoyed them with a ginger, soy and Shanghai vinegar sauce on a bed of crispy broccoli rabe.

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My household is beholden to the order of the rack. Obey the rack.

[escoffiette]

Best of Bacolod

I spent a month in The Philippines, a place that I confirmed to be raw and magical. It was important to see where my family came from, to meet distant relatives and to breathe in my heritage. I knew that my family loved food, but I didn't know that it was so central to Pan-Filipino circuitry. Zipping between metropolitan sprawls to beach resorts to rural compounds, I got a kaleidoscope glimpse of where I come from. It was familiar, but an off feeling of returning to a place you've never been. I've resolved to go back, there is too much to discover still. Here, I will highlight my favorite dishes in each city.

Chili shrimp from Mely's Garden - Hate shrimp, but hard to when you're hit in the face with this sauce. 

Crispy pata with french fries from Mely's Garden - This version of the Filipino pork knuckle is smashed and served with french fries that have been soaking up that glorious pork fat. Instead of mang tomas, we're given a sauce of soy, scallion and sugar.

Takway from Mely's Garden - Misleadingly akin to string beans, young bamboo stalks are sauteed with local fish paste.

Mango Pavlova from Bob's Bakery - Take the meringue dessert named after the delicate Russian ballet dancer and put in some mango filling. Yup.

Potted Ube with Parmesan cheese from Mely's Garden - A bright pot de creme made with the pulp of the purple yam, topped with nutty cheese. Not too sweet, a good palate cleanser.

My great aunt Thelma would tell me stories about Bacolod. It's a small island town an hour away from Jaro. My mom, cousin and pair of aunts took a 2 hour ferry to meet up with Tita Mely, sisters with my great aunt Thelma. My cousin happened to have gone to college there and told me that she had to share a room with Tita, who would keep her awake reading novels late into the night. Our first stop was breakfast at Bob's Bakery. I listened to Tita Mely gripe about fat relatives, roll her eyes and suck her teeth in at things she found ridiculous. Oh, that's where I get it from!

We arranged a meet up with my step-grandmother at Tita's restaurant, Mely's Garden. She opened the gate into an open courtyard with Spanish style furniture, a patio, couple of catering rooms and a large hall lined with glass that was connected to a vented grill as well as the main kitchen. I got emotional. How come I never knew that this part of my family existed? Why was I always pushed to become a doctor? Wasn't this nice? I followed Tita Mely like a puppy. I asked so many questions about her operations. There is no head chef, everyone knows every dish and every station in case someone gets sick. Tita Mely was super inspiring (left). She kept trying to convince me to hire her in the states as a consultant for my (future) restaurant.

I haven't seen my step-grandma in 18 years. She's softened. My most vivid memory was of her threatening to spank me with her house slipper if I didn't brush my teeth. I showed her pictures of my brother on my phone and it made her so happy. Here she is with my mom:

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Best of Kalibo

I spent a month in The Philippines, a place that I confirmed to be raw and magical. It was important to see where my family came from, to meet distant relatives and to breathe in my heritage. I knew that my family loved food, but I didn't know that it was so central to Pan-Filipino circuitry. Zipping between metropolitan sprawls to beach resorts to rural compounds, I got a kaleidoscope glimpse of where I come from. It was familiar, but an off feeling of returning to a place you've never been. I've resolved to go back, there is too much to discover still. Here, I will highlight my favorite dishes in each city.

Whole spit roasted lechon at Atlan Cable - Resting peacefully on banana leaves, I snuck a cup of skin into the car for our trip home.

Fish crackers from a street vendor - These salty snacks were the perfect accompaniment to public intoxication.

Peanut kisses - Mini meringue candies with a peanut in the middle.

I thought Boracay was a party! We were on our way back to Jaro when my aunt announced that we'd be spending Ati-atihan lunch at a local cable company in Kalibo. We pulled up to an open garage where people were sitting around drinking beers. I thought we'd grab a plate and get back into the car but I was far from correct. See, the high holiday of Santo Nino spans a couple of weeks . Ati-atihan is a religious dance parade akin to mardi gras! Local businesses pour money into hiring a drum corp, making flags, banners and shirts for their crew. La Doña that owned the cable company also owns a couple Greenwich Pizza stores in the area, so we were living large!

It started with the arrival of two spit roasted pigs. I stood, mouth agape as two men with machetes portioned the servings. Just beyond them, hidden by a large tarp was 30 cases of beer chilling on ice. It was to be transported in a cart that would follow us on our parade route. After lunch, the drum corp arrived with heavy tribal beats accented with the shrill melody of xylophones. While they practiced, everyone got a swipe or two of face paint.

Everyone was assembled and we scooted along the main road toward the center of Kalibo. Rival drum corps mixed to make a thundering beat. We shimmied and wiggled our way around down, downing beers and hailing street vendors to toss us a bag of fish chips. We even spied a Greenwich pizza stall and scored a couple free Hawaiian pies because we were with the owners. I feel asleep in the car smelling of beer, sweat and happiness.

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Mushroom risotto made with local Bushwick veggie stock, Provencal crusted chicken

[escoffiette]

Best of Tigbauan

I spent a month in The Philippines, a place that I confirmed to be raw and magical. It was important to see where my family came from, to meet distant relatives and to breathe in my heritage. I knew that my family loved food, but I didn't know that it was so central to Pan-Filipino circuitry. Zipping between metropolitan sprawls to beach resorts to rural compounds, I got a kaleidoscope glimpse of where I come from. It was familiar, but an off feeling of returning to a place you've never been. I've resolved to go back, there is too much to discover still. Here, I will highlight my favorite dishes in each city.

Whole roasted lechon - Yup, that is a whole pig right there. 

Lechon tail - Yup, I pulled off the tail and chewed on it like a malnourished dog.

Relyenong Bangus - Relyenong / rellenong is the same as relleno, or "stuffed." A milk fish is deboned. The flesh is mixed with a pork forcemeat and stuffed back into the skin, sealed and deep fried. Basically a pork sausage with a fish casing.

Rellenong Manok - Along the same lines as the bangus, the chicken version is pretty much the French chicken galantine with whole sausages, hardboiled eggs and raisins studded as if it were a Filipino mortadella.

We actually did leave the house once or twice while I was staying with my aunt and uncle in Oton. We celebrated my uncle's birthday as well as the high holiday of Santo Nino at a house in Tigbauan. At this party, I spotted my first whole roasted pig of the trip! You don't know how happy I was to eat it slathered in mang tomas (brown sugar liver sauce). My aunt explained to the household that I was researching Filipino food and they flocked around me, guiding me around the buffet table. Inundating me with stories. All of the dishes sounded Spanish: Valenciana, Filipino paella; rellenong, see above; and lechón from leche for milk, I.E. suckling pig. And even looking around at the party, I was pretty much only one with dark skin. Filipinos don't actually like the sun. It's this deep seeded obsession to look more European and if you're a shade too brown you might be mistaken for the help.

Let me step back for a minute and explain that there is a terrible division of wealth in the Philippines. It was so upsetting to see high rise condos butting up next to precarious looking shanty clusters. My mother had gone on a morning run in Manila and came home crying because she saw a 4 year old boy guiding cup of muddy water to the mouth of a blind old woman. If you thought, our 99% in America was suffering; it's even worse abroad. On a lighter note, my family's worked really hard to give me everything I needed to survive out in the real world alone. It's a huge deal to support my foray into cooking and I'm forever indebted.

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Best of Oton

I spent a month in The Philippines, a place that I confirmed to be raw and magical. It was important to see where my family came from, to meet distant relatives and to breathe in my heritage. I knew that my family loved food, but I didn't know that it was so central to Pan-Filipino circuitry. Zipping between metropolitan sprawls to beach resorts to rural compounds, I got a kaleidoscope glimpse of where I come from. It was familiar, but an off feeling of returning to a place you've never been. I've resolved to go back, there is too much to discover still. Here, I will highlight my favorite dishes in each city.

Chicken Tinola from Auntie Belinda's house: Chicken, boiled wedges of green papaya, young chili pepper leaves (akin to arugula), chili, onion, fish sauce and ginger.

Steamed Kangkong from Auntie Belinda's house: Kangkong is like spinach in flavor (which is barely any) but has the leafy structure of watercress. Here it tangled mass was steamed with onion.

Vanilla ice cream with persimmon preserves at Auntie Belinda's house: Store-bought vanilla ice cream with unaltered persimmon pulp that my aunt had frozen and let soften into a sauce!

Tkakolate  at Auntie Belinda's house: In every store, you can get batons of local cacao pressed with raw cane sugar. You dissolve the whole thing in a cup of water and constitute it with a tiny splash of local milk (which is super rich). If you remember, Starbucks used to have a similar drink called the Chantico.

Chicharrones from a roadside stall: Mandatory pork skin fix. My people know no bounds. That is MY bag I'm holding, not anyone else's.

Pancit Molo from Auntie Belinda's house: I had a Ratatouille moment with this dish. It didn't ring a bell when my aunt asked me if I wanted some for breakfast. But as my lips touched the broth and slurped up the melty wontons, I flashed back to my childhood at her house. The swing set in the backyard, the rose garden and this soup. It's a pared down version of wonton soup, no fish sauce just rich chicken broth with unapologetic pools of fat floating to the top, onions and purses of meat in flowy noodle.

I hit a wall. My body was so tired from constant 5am departures, car trips, flights, obligations, dinners, lunches, early breakfasts, 2nd breakfasts and religious holiday parties. I made fitful attempts at sleeping but everything hurt until I received an invitation to stay with my Auntie Belinda in Oton. To make a long story short, she is the one that introduced my parents to each other. That is the reason why she is my ninang (godmother) and I her inaanak (godchild). She was also part of the vast network of Filipino families that took care of me after school while my parents worked. She always took me for a finicky eater; so she was delighted to find that I, after 27 years, had seen the light.

For a while now, Auntie Belinda and Uncle Rene have been preparing for retirement and built a very luxurious American looking home in the middle of rural Oton. At this point in the trip, they gave me what I wanted: time alone. Between lounging around the house, yard projects and eating; they didn't have the energy (or car) to cart me around. Instead, I hydrated myself and slept for a long time. When I awoke, there was a door to door masseuse waiting for me downstairs.  After meals, I'd attempt to do the dishes but the house-man Alan would hiss at me in Illongo.

An hour before I left the house, my aunt and I caught up on the last 15 years. When my parents moved our family to Palmdale, CA; we had lost touch. No more weekly family parties, no more playdates with the cousins or rides from school. It was ghastly and cathartic. I think I drank 4 glasses of water from talking so much. 

[escoffiette]

Best of Boracay

I spent a month in The Philippines, a place that I confirmed to be raw and magical. It was important to see where my family came from, to meet distant relatives and to breathe in my heritage. I knew that my family loved food, but I didn't know that it was so central to Pan-Filipino circuitry. Zipping between metropolitan sprawls to beach resorts to rural compounds, I got a kaleidoscope glimpse of where I come from. It was familiar, but an off feeling of returning to a place you've never been. I've resolved to go back, there is too much to discover still. Here, I will highlight my favorite dishes in each city.

Adobo floss from Gerry's Grill: Sort of like TGI Fridays of the Philippines, Gerry's Grill is everywhere but it was raining and we had no where else to go. To start, we got these pulled strings of crispy adobo chicken.

Chicken meatballs from Eat My Balls: Yes, you read that correctly. For 20 pesos, I got 5 deep fried chicken meatballs with sweet and sour sauce on the beach.

Oysters with mango from Don Vito's: This was the only dish at the Italian restaurant that I wanted. Everything else was pasta and if we had gone anywhere else, it would have involved rice! I was wearing a bathing suit, people!

Street skewers: Around 4pm, the vendors along the beach switch out to set up buffet tables. After the dinner rush (and when everyone's a little tipsy), the street bbqs come out to play. I tried chicken intestine grilled to a crisp with sweet sauce. I will say this, "Chewy."

We drove 5 hours from Jaro to a port and took a ferry out to the party paradise of Boracay. I've never done the "Spring Break Cancun" thing but I imagine it wasn't far off from my experience. We stayed in apartments by the main road (with wifi!). With a 7 minute walk down a fenced corridor, you arrived at a beautiful white sand beach. It was a cloudy week, but warm, and the sand was as fine as table salt. The beach walk was lined with snacks, souvenir stands, hair braiding stalls and many people trying to sell you activity packages where you snorkel, hike and ride on banana boats.

I'm usually pissed off at such an affront to my moral standards of "what a vacation should be" but I indulged in the moment. Why not get my hair braided? Why not buy handmade local leather sandals? You can't possibly take yourself too seriously when there are fire dancing drag queens* and a shot bar called The Obama Grill. If anything, you can throw off your sarong and run into the ocean 50 feet away while chugging a Red Horse beer. Speaking of which, Red Horse is a Filipino beer that is not exported to the U.S. It's got a Belgian-weight alcohol percentage and let me confess something. As much as I talk up my ability to handle myself while drinking, I got kicked by the Red Horse after two bottles at happy hour.

*Did not know they were drag queens until we hung out under a tent during a sudden rainstorm. And I thought I had short shorts!